


A Sharp Wit

by LittleLinor



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Knifeplay, Post-Golden Deer Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24305029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLinor/pseuds/LittleLinor
Summary: Edelgard isn't sure why she's still here.She's even less sure why she's in Claude's bed, but since she did make her way there on her own, she isn't about to back down. No matter how infuriating he may be.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	A Sharp Wit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [o0whitelily0o](https://archiveofourown.org/users/o0whitelily0o/gifts).



> Unfortunately does not contain much actual knifeplay.
> 
> I haven't gone in depth about the AU-building but tl;dr it's Golden Deer but they managed to keep Edelgard (barely) alive when they took Enbarr, and eventually released her after the new regime was more or less stably established, and she's kind of at a complete loss as to what to do next, both because her ambitions were crushed (and in part accomplished by someone else) and because the cost of what she tried to achieve does weigh on her enough that she doesn't like the idea of just Existing and doing nothing.  
> Of course, Claude being who he is, the tension that had been palpable all through their academy years but that she couldn't act on because of her Plans starts actually unfolding. To her dismay... or not.

“Bringing a knife to bed?” Claude all but drawls, sprawled on the mattress in such a show of relaxation that he almost seems to sink into it. “How distrustful of you.”  
Edelgard raises an eyebrow.  
“You mean to say you haven’t hidden several weapons already?”  
“Shockingly enough, I haven’t. I’m naked in every sense of the word,” he adds with a wink.  
She snorts. Somehow, that seems to amuse him even more.  
“No, really! Not a single one, even. You’re welcome to search me if you want,” he adds with a wink, the unsaid implications of _where_ she might have to search so heavy on his face that she can almost smell them.  
“What are you trying to prove, Claude,” she sighs. “You know very well why I keep my weapons on my person at all times.” _Now that I’m finally allowed them_ , she adds, bitterly, but the words don’t leave her throat, because Claude is in fact the one who suggested there should be no such restriction, and the idea of lowering herself to complaining about it in front of him makes her skin crawl almost as much as interacting with her dear uncle used to.  
Getting rid of _him_ is one thing she can genuinely thank Claude for, although she likes being indebted to him even less than she likes showing any weakness.  
“Nothing at all,” Claude tells her, bright and unbothered. “I’m just showing you that you can trust me. That, and weapons would get in the way,” he adds with a grin. “I don’t like having my fun interrupted by a pommel accidentally digging into my stomach.”  
“Would that we all had such _critical_ priorities,” she sighs, straddling him. Unlike him, she’s kept her underclothes, but the security they offer is only symbolic: the undershirt is roomy enough to allow easy access underneath it, and the rest can be easily torn off. “Unfortunately, in my experience, those who cajole with claims of being trustworthy are those one must be most wary of.”  
“Oh, you should be wary of me all right,” he murmurs, vibrant and dark-eyed, and she almost rolls her own eyes again, if only to stop herself from shivering at the hand he slowly strokes up her thigh. “But maybe you can do both.”  
“Both? How does that make sense?”  
He smiles, and keeps stroking up, and stills, right as he’s about to reach the crease where thigh meets hip. Keeping religiously to the limits she’s wordlessly set, both a mark of respect and a challenge.  
It’s always a challenge, with him. She hates that it’s precisely why she’s drawn to him so much, why she can keep stepping where she never thought she would dare step.  
She hates that she knows it.  
(She cannot make herself hate him)  
It’s a challenge because she will have to take down those walls she erected _herself_ , if she wants him to take a single step past them, and after a lifetime of having to manipulate people into forcing onto her the boundaries she actually wants when they unfailingly dictate them, it’s as exhausting and uncomfortable as it is a relief.  
The reverse psychology had almost become easy. Having to ask for anything, now, that’s hard. Especially when it hasn’t actually ever worked before.  
He smiles, and reaches up with his other hand, towards her face. She does not bend to meet him, but still feels a slight tug in her chest, and reaches back, taking his hand in hers.  
“Edelgard, darling, you can be wary of what I’m capable of _and_ trust me when it comes to not betraying you. I do like for people to have a healthy fear of me, but I also try to cultivate trust. I don’t want people to think me untrustworthy.”  
She raises an eyebrow at him again. ‘ _Really, Claude_ ’ does not need to be said.  
“Well, to select people at least,” he grins.  
“You’re insufferable,” she sighs.  
“Thank you. Now, since you already brought the knife to bed, I’ll forgive your _wounding_ distrust if you get creative with it.”  
“… you want me to _take a knife to your body_?” She pauses. “… you want _me_ to take a knife to your body?”  
“Why not? It’d be fun. Just use some of that flame magic on it first.”  
She falters. It would be easy, to dismiss his confidence as the hubris of the victor, but she knows better. There’s something about Claude, something deep and rooted despite his flighty exterior, that holds the kind of strength she’s always tried hard to fake.  
And it _works_ , as much as she hates it. His stupid, foolhardy open vulnerability _does_ inspire trust in her, not so much because it makes him seem harmless, but because it makes her feel instead like if he wanted to screw her over, he already could have a thousand times.  
Whether it’s true or not isn’t even relevant. Somehow, she trusts him. She both hates and loves it.  
“How are you so…” She trails off, and sighs in frustration, then flicks the knife in her hand, on instinct, grabbing it firmly and bringing it to his throat. “I _could_ kill you right now. How are you so relaxed about it?”  
He chuckles. It makes the soft ridge of his throat move against the blade, and she pointedly does not focus on that, or the way it made the air in her lungs suddenly feel thin.  
“Well, some call me unhinged, so there’s that. I prefer ‘daring’ myself.”  
“Not ‘brave’?”  
“That’s for honourable knights, not me.”  
She pulls back her hand.  
“You sell yourself short.”  
“So do you. No matter what people may think, you’ve never been quite ambitious _enough_ , Edelgard. You have to dream bigger.”  
She pauses, stomach tight. She knows what he means, what he’s hinting at, why _he_ of all people managed to carve his way to victory. And yet she can’t help but challenge it. Obfuscate it.  
“Bigger than Fodlan?”  
“Bigger than the tool they wanted you to be. Bigger than how you saw yourself. Bigger than _negotiating_.”  
“… that’s easy for you to say,” she all but spits out.  
“Maybe. But I believe in you. I think you might still surprise us all,” he says, grinning, and the warmth in his eyes is so genuine that for a second she actually does want to bring that knife to his throat, just to dim it and never have to think about it.  
“Be grateful I don’t surprise you _right now_ ,” she mutters, bending to kiss him.  
“Oh, believe me, I _love_ being surprised.”

She leaves the knife on the bedside table.


End file.
